The Breath of a Dragon
by RiverBlade1865
Summary: Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, and Gwaine get into a bunch of trouble. Everyone has secrets. Now they all have to depend on each other for dear life. Contains different adventures. This will be my ongoing story. It will go on forever. And ever. At different parts, may contain adult humor/language/content. Please review. Reviews are fun. Warning: May be subject to tears...
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So I've decided to take a little break from writing with more writing. This was a shot of inspiration story, so the chapters will only come with the inspiration. Cheers!_

Chapter 1~

"Not true." Merlin whispered, flabbergasted. He stared at the man, tantalized with fear of an uncovered secret. The accusation was a slap in the face, a shout to be more careful; but none of that would matter if he were found out. He would die.

"Warlock!" The man repeated. His only proof was with his eyes; no hard evidence. This was good. Who would believe an old town guard?

King Uther shifted in his throne. He sighed heavily, deep in thought. Arthur glanced at his father, expecting another dismissal. Merlin eyed their reactions carefully.

"Warlock, you say?" Uther spoke up. He seemed to be seriously contemplating the claim.

"Father, you can't really be thinking-" Arthur tried to defend his friend, but was readily waved off by the old guard.

"I seen it, sir! Seen it with me own eyes! He cast a spell on a girl! That one!" He shoved a finger into Guinevere's face. Her left eye twitched, and the response was clumsily being hidden. She left the old man's eye and met with Arthur's. Merlin looked at them all; he was frozen.

"Fralic," King Uther addressed his inferior, "This _boy_ is simply a servant. A lousy servant. Are you sure he is what you say?"

Arthur scoffed nervously, trying to pass it off as ridicule, "Merlin couldn't possibly be a warlock. He's too much of an idiot for that."

"Silence, Arthur."

Then Gwen spoke, her voice rushed but strong, "Sire, Merlin would never-"

"Silence! You are not to address me. Fralic, describe what you saw." Uther turned venomous.

Archaic town guard Fralic removed his cap, "Sire, I was watchin' the south side of Woodbury, as I always do, when that boy and that girl snuck up behind a house all secret like. They was out of breath, and I was about to go to them, tell them to get, when that boy began chantin'. His chantin' be terrible, sire, and I could feel that dark power from ten feet away, I could."

"That's a lie!" Merlin defended himself. Gwaine, who stood behind him, rested a silent hand on Merlin's shoulder. Uther dug dagger from his eyes and threw them across the open space to the pair.

"You'll be alright." Gwaine murmured, assuring his friend that he wouldn't let harm come to him.

Fralic continued in a dazzled fury, "I's seen the magic slip from his skin and into that girl. She gasped and shook-"

Arthur shared a worried glance with Gwen. He grasped the hilt of his sword.

"-and she hugs 'im. She whispers somefin to 'im, then he whispers somefin to 'er. He kissed her head, and they ran off again. I was so astounded; I didn't know what I's to do. Then I decided to come here, tell ya 'bout this ordeal. And here the warlock is; pamperin' to you and your son! A warlock! Right under your noses!"

Morgana, who was lounging and enjoying the story, smirked. She knew this was it for Merlin, and she loved it.

The king nodded. It was unclear of what he thought, but the thought was not pleasant. He squinted and twitched, and gripped the edge of his throne tight beneath his wrist. He squared Merlin in the eye.

Merlin felt all his blood and breath escape quietly from his rigid demeanor. All eyes were on him, expecting something but he was unsure what. A confession? A denial? A show of power? To run? Merlin stood, the only feeling being Gwaine's fierce hold on his bones. Merlin tried to return a gaze of power, but it failed to deliver.

"Seize him." Uther commanded. The two words sparked much action; first Gwaine spinning Merlin behind him, then Arthur stepping in front and drawing his sword on the king. Gwen stood behind Arthur, next to Merlin, for protection. The guards in the room spurred; half halting their advance on Merlin, half snaking to the prince.

"I can't let you do this." Arthur jabbed, bitterness in his bite.

"He's a servant."

"He's a friend. He's a friend no more than I am your son."

"And what son goes against his father?"

Arthur didn't waver, but was found speechless with no quick reply.

"You have been disobedient. You have been untrustworthy. And you have forced my hand." Uther stood, unclipping his cape and unsheathing his sword.

"Father, don't-" Arthur backed away from his father.

"You have given me no choice."

"I will fight you." Arthur threatened, but it was as intimidating to the king as a child with a stick.

"You have chosen a servant- a warlock- over your own family. It is time you have learned your place.

"Gwaine," Arthur said to his knight, his only remaining knight, "Get them out. I will not see my friends fall."

The knight winced and grimaced at the thought of his friend's sacrifice. The air pooled out of his lungs in an elongated sigh, "Sorry, but you won't get rid of me that easily."

Arthur shouted, "I said go!"

"Merlin." Gwaine swung his sword to daunt the approaching guards, "Get Gwen out of here. I will not see my friends fall, nor will I see the prince go down alone. I'm a dead man anyway."

Merlin would've protested, but instantly he knew he could not sway the vested emotions of either of the men. He knew of a spell, one learned only recently; the last that Gaius taught. It could save them…

"_Munimen x'hal amiculus…_" Merlin uttered from the gutter of his voice.

With wide eyes, Arthur turned to Merlin. He knew the spell. He knew what Merlin was doing.

"NO!" Arthur reached out to him, but it was too late. Merlin completed his spell, and Arthur tripped over Gwen, who fell onto Gwaine. The nighttime air encased the creek bed they transported to. All stones and rocks, smoothed from the once high water. The prince panted disjointedly. He gulped down a sob, and stared at the spot where Merlin had been.

Merlin had used his magic to save them. But that spell, Merlin _knew _that spell couldn't transport him as well. He was probably dead by now. Killed by his father. Dead. That was all the prince could think of his friend. Dead.

Dead.

_A/N: End, chapter 1. Please leave reviews, comments, whatever fits your fancy. This is the middle of the story, so I thought it would be a good start. As always, thanks for reading. Keep me posted on your feels._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Sorry if it's a bit rough, I've written it in the hour before school starts. Have fun._

Chapter 2- The Bonds of Brotherhood (Part 1)

One year earlier~

Merlin scrubbed at an unpolished boot. Such work was tedious, and none enjoyable. He would work to prepare everything all day for the precious prince, and what did he get for it? Nothing. No thank you, no day off, not even a nod. There was no regard for a _servant_ in this castle. Especially by the king. At least Merlin didn't work directly for _him._

These complaints usually passed through Merlin's mind, and became more of a routine mindset while working. He huffed, bored. If he could just use his magic, life would be simpler.

But no- that was too risky, according to Gaius. He had to "be careful" and not "end up dead in a ditch one day" and "stay out of trouble". It wasn't like Merlin was going to showcase personally to Uther that he was a warlock. A wizard. A being of magic. A servant.

He slumped against the wall of chiseled stone. The open back bench wasn't comfortable, but when was he ever comfortable? He moaned. If only he could have a day off.

Gwaine strode in, his usual perky self, carrying on like normal. He gave Merlin a wide grin, a truly happy grin that should have brightened Merlin's day.

Merlin pursed his lips in reply.

"Oh, don't be such a whiner." Gwaine waved his hand to shove off the feeling, "It can't be that bad."

"Do you want to do it? I'd be glad to give it to you." The warlock quirked his brow.

Casually Gwaine said, "Why not? Got nothing better to do." He plopped down next to Merlin.

Merlin sat up, "_Everyone _has something better to do than _this._"

Gwaine shrugged and heaved a pile of boots onto his lap. He chose one, took some polish, and began to rub. His swift movements were too hard and too fast; they would destroy the boot.

"Stop it! You'll get me into trouble if you do it wrong!" Merlin stole the roughed up boot away into the safety of his own keep. He also snatched the polish from the knight's firm clasp.

"Now hold on just a minute; I thought I was getting it for a while, there." Gwaine protested and made a reach for the boot and polish, spilling some of his pile to the floor.

Merlin deftly pulled from Gwaine's arms, then complained, "Now look what you've done."

Gwaine stared at the floor. To his right were clean and polished boots, and to his left were the dirtier pairs. The group that fell from his lap dropped to his right and blended with the already polished.

Merlin scrunched his nose, not in a gamey mood, "You've gone and mixed it all up. Now _I _have to deal with it. And I'm going to be late for Arthur as well. Go and kill me, why don't you."

Gwaine's response was expected, "Seems to me, Merlin, that you could use a break. I know this tavern, quite a nice little place-"

"I'm not going drinking with you again. Not after what happened with that rabbit and the half-eaten barrel of onions. Or the cabbages."

"But Charrie was quite the pretty one, wasn't she?"

"Wasn't her name Chloe?"

"Maybe it was Christie?"

"Or Christa?" Merlin offered.

"No, no- Christa was from that one with the pig."

"Ugh, yes," The undiscovered warlock muttered at the memory, "How could I forget? Why do I ever go out with you?"

"Fine," Gwaine settled, "No drinking. How 'bout a nice ride then? I could do with some fresh air."

"I'd have to tell Arthur. And he'll have my head if I don't do my chores." Merlin slumped back again.

"We won't be gone long. It'll be our secret. You could do away with a few hours of relaxation, eh, Merlin?" Gwaine goaded him on. His flamboyancy knew no bounds. Something about his carefree attitude helped Merlin make his decision.

The boy rolled his eyes being only slightly annoyed, but he wanted to make a show of it, "I suppose. But we have to be back in time for me to finish. And you're going to help me."

Gwaine slapped his shoulder, "Fair enough."

… … …

The ride out of the castle was smooth. Their horses clomped on the cobblestone until they left the west gate, heading down a dirt road. Midday air revived Merlin's lungs, which had been breathing in polish fumes for the past hour. The air was crisp, but there was a subtle change when they reached the edge of the forest. It turned dense and thick fog began to form in the low areas.

"What's with all this fog today?" Gwaine's version of small talk was barely a version at all.

Merlin shrugged, but he wondered the same. His horse grew finicky behind Gwaine, snorting every few seconds and bobbing its head. Merlin stroked its neck calmly. Then it was Gwaine's horse who borne restlessness. As an instinct, the knight lightly unsheathed his sword.

"Gwaine, what-" Merlin whispered before an arrow whizzed through the air and snagged his shoulder. The pain seared into the wizard, causing him to lose sight of anything else. He could hear Gwaine shouting his name. Merlin twisted and fell onto the ground. Poison. That would be the only solution. The arrows were poisoned.

Foam and saliva coagulated in Merlin's mouth. He felt it ooze out the corners as hands, Gwaine's hands, lifted him up. They struggled, and he fell again; only with Gwaine at his side. The knight stood over him protectively. The sword was gone, but Gwaine punched at any who came near. Soon enough, the brave and loyal knight was shot as well.

Merlin tried to retain the only thing he could; his name. All else dissipated in the fog, and his name was the only brace keeping him conscious. He repeated it until the word became meaningless. Still he said it, unknowing if it was aloud or safe in his head, he said Merlin.

Then his name left him, and the rats of insentience bit him.

_A/N: Like it? Please review; it seriously makes my day when I see the numbers go up._


	3. Chapter 3

_A.N: Sorry if the chapter is a bit rough. I like some of the ideas I came up with for the future of this story, so cross your fingers._

Chapter 3

Merlin nodded awake. His vision rung and his ears were blurred- no, his ears rung and his vision blurred. Dots danced and dissipated, allowing his sight to return to normal. Lids were half-closed and blue eyes didn't move. They didn't focus; only stared into empty space and a gently cackling fire prodded his awareness.

It all snapped back to him. He jerked with the intake of consciousness, but couldn't move much. His arms and legs were bound, and he was against another sturdy form. It was Gwaine, Merlin concluded. He was captured as well.

"You a-awake, Merlin?" Gwaine's craggy voice beckoned.

Merlin didn't dare to rise above a whisper, "Yes. Are you alright?"

The knight snorted, "Never- never been better. Could do with-a few less broken bones, though."

"What's happened? I passed out."

"I l-lost," Gwaine muttered with short breath, "I'm sorry. I couldn't- couldn't take them all. One is a witch, but I could-n't see her fa-ce."

Men surrounded the camp they were prisoner at. Many of them were dosing, grumbling for sleep during this night, and others ate, drank, and smoked.

A shadowy figure sat by the fire. It illuminated his expression of twisted sadism. His chipped teeth grimaced in the orange light. The man sharpened a blade, a small sliver of metal. A fine point rested on the end, and would prove to be a perfect weapon of death. The man turned his cold gaze to the captives and twitched a sneer.

"So you're awake." The man was brusque and deep throated, "I am Vincent. What are your names?" Vincent upraised and took three long steps before standing in front of Merlin.

The warlock regarded him vapidly, "Does it matter?"

"I was just being polite. I know who you are," Vincent bent and whispered in Merlin's ear, "_Emrys._"

"How-!" Merlin's fragment was cut off by a snapped branch. Vincent drew a long sword and prepared attack. The others tensed as well. It was clear Vincent was in charge. After one dreadful minute of nothing but the fire cracking, the mysterious man returned his attention to Merlin. His leer trembled back.

"So, until the witch comes back, we've been needing some entertainment." Vincent swung his sword swiftly down between Merlin and Gwaine. The ropes binding them together severed, and Merlin lunged for Vincent's legs. The brute caught his collar and threw him aside like a sheet of parchment.

"Cheeky." Vincent flatly stated. He looked back at Gwaine, "Not feeling so well, sir knight?"

Gwaine had slumped prone, slightly writhing in pain. He tried to respond, but only grunts fluttered from his clenched maw. Gwaine thrust a hand into the dirt, gritting it between his fingers. He huffed a breath and stood shakily. This was when Merlin saw the extent of his injuries.

All armor gone, Merlin could see blood forming on his shirt shaping where a gash was made. It stretched diagonally on his chest in one single line. There were sure to be bruises spat on his flesh, but the light the fire gave wasn't enough to see them. His left eye was swollen, as well as his nose. He flared it, attaining all the air he could without appearing weak.

He spoke, "I'm great." Gwaine didn't want to show his wincing, but Merlin could see it.

Vincent laughed, "Then you should be well enough to give us a little show." The other men in the camp joined in his curdled jeer and drew their weapons for some fun.

… … …

Arthur couldn't believe it. Merlin shirked on his chores _again._ There were piles of boots that still needed a good polishing. It was almost night, and the sun was about to set. That idiot couldn't do anything. The prince scoured Merlin's usual hiding spots in the castle. He looked in his room, checked the armory, and even turned to the kitchens.

Fully annoyed, Arthur decided to ask. He went to see Gwaine, who was usually talking Merlin's ear off. Arthur readily stepped into Gwaine's shared quarters, but only Sir Leon was present.

"Sir Leon," Arthur asked, "Where's Gwaine? Or Merlin?"

"Not sure. I saw Gwaine speaking to Guinevere earlier today. Is something wrong?" Leon set down a book he was previously indulged in.

"Merlin hasn't finished any of his work. I swear, I'm going to kill him someday." Arthur said whilst exiting. He grew red at the fact Gwaine and Gwen were talking. It didn't _bother _him, but it didn't rest well either. But he wasn't jealous. Not jealous at all.

The prince strode through the halls with his regular pomp. He glimpsed Gwen and trotted to her.

She beamed, "Hello, Arthur. Do you need something?"

His tongue dried, but his voice stayed smooth, "Yes; do you know where Merlin is? Or Gwaine for that matter?"

Gwen shook her head, "I haven't seen either of them since this morning. Have you checked with Gaius? Or the tavern?"

Arthur chuckled, "No, not yet." He didn't want to leave her yet, "I suppose I could wait until morning. Then I can yell at Merlin to do his job. Um…" The prince lost his words.

Gwen's eyes twinkled. She was so beautiful. Especially in the dress she wore. It was a sweet blue with small floral patterns. It suited her well, but Arthur couldn't look anywhere but her face. She was so beautiful.

"Sire?" Gwen expectantly raised her brow.

"Uh, right, well I'm going to go. Now. So, I will talk to you tomorrow. Or not, it depends on if I see you. But I do want to see you- well I don't _want _to see you- no, no I do want- I will be seeing you tomorrow. Good night." He backed away, slightly embarrassed by his flustered speech.

Gwen smiled pleasantly, "Good night."

He felt like he turned into Merlin. Once out of Gwen's sight, Arthur rubbed his forehead in humiliation. How could he come out of that awful sentence alive? Didn't _want _to see her? What kind of rubbish was that?

He sauntered back towards his room, scuffing his feet from time to time. Then Morgana turned and passed him.

"Where are you going so late?" Arthur swerved to her.

She didn't turn to face him completely, "I'm going to Gaius to fetch something for sleep."

"You aren't having nightmares again, are you?" He was honestly concerned for his friend.

"No, just some problems with falling asleep, that's all. Good night." She rushed away.

Arthur returned to his room and felt like he failed the day, with a small nag at the recess of his mind.

_A.N: I like reviews. Really, give me reviews. I eat 'em up._


	4. Chapter 4

_A.N: Hey faithful readers. I hope it's going well for you, and to brighten up your day, here's another chapter. Although it may not brighten at all..._

Chapter 4

Gwaine struggled to remain conscious. He paid no heed to their deprecate roars; he was concentrated on his chest. The men jeering and kicking at him made that action difficult. Every few moments, a boot would crush into his lungs, breaking a bone from time to time. Gwaine forced himself to inhale, then slowly exhale in between jolts of pain. First he would focus on staying alive, then he would help Merlin.

Their shouts were indistinct, but Merlin's wasn't. Gwaine couldn't see him, but his cries were discernible. Merlin screamed more intensely than Gwaine; his paine must have been to as well. They were torturing him. Gwaine mustered up his strength, but it was barely enough to stand. When the smashing ceased, Gwaine did just that. He choked out breaths that were meant to stop from blood and bile. He coughed out anything he could onto the dirt and muck.

"St-" Gwaine's words failed. He swallowed down irony blood that threatened in his throat. He groaned, and heard some of their sardonic taunts.

"Some knight of Camelot!"

"Does Uther pick anyone off the street now!"

"Can't defend anything, can you!"

"Pathetic!"

"Pitiful!"

"Worthless!"

Among worse ones, their derisions didn't touch his ego. It was too big for that.

The next few swings, the knight sloppily maneuvered. He tried to retaliate, but his strength was weakening. His force was fading, and his breath stopping. The strain was harsh on his body, and his legs collapsed. One of the men removed a whip from a tent.

_Crack!_

Gwaine winced and juddered from the gash.

"Get up, you coward!" The man with the whip called. Gwaine tried, wrenching his muscles and commanding them to move. They disobeyed and remained in agony.

_Crack!_

"Get up!"

_Crack!_

The strikes became louder and faster and harder and wilder. The snake tail imprinted on his entire back.

_Crack!_

Gwaine could feel his vivacity slipping away. It touched his cheek and kissed him softly before fading and leaving him cold. He reached for it, but it dissipated until there was a glimmer left of it.

Then, it returned to him in the form of a beautiful girl. She had midnight blue hair and sad eyes. Her lips were full and worried. She had the palest skin he ever saw, and viridian green eyes that gazed at him with compassion. She smelled like a sea breeze as she stroked his hair. He felt warmth diffuse into his body. The girl leaned in and pressed her forehead against his. She stared into him.

Gwaine snapped from his vision back to reality. The whipping halted and the air was heavy. His tender back was left to the open air and it stung. The needles stabbing his wounds nerved him. Gwaine tilted his head to see the most unexpected sight; Morgana.

… … …

Gwen chuckled as she watched Arthur amble from his encounter with her. He was obviously discomfited from his frazzled talk. Gwen couldn't help but think it was adorable.

That meant he felt something for her, right? He couldn't lose his words in front of a ten foot man, let alone a servant. It was only her to whom his mouth stopped. No; she was overanalyzing. He couldn't ever feel something for her; even if he did, he could never admit it. There was too much stigma around a relationship like that.

Her heart dreamily wretched for him as she padded through the halls. She slipped out a sigh, and combed back a stray curl. Gwen hummed a meaningless melody. Arthur Pendragon; silenced from a servant.

Morgana caught her eyes. The ward was sneaking out of the castle with her hood up. What was she doing at this hour of night?

The possibility that she needed help was low, but curiosity ruled Gwen's thoughts. Her mind told her to go, in case she did require… something. Everyone needs something at one point or another.

Gwen followed Lady Morgana, but at a distance. This wasn't her only curious behavior of late. Morgana had been disappearing at night for days. Gwen didn't mention it, but she knew. She was the sole owner of this knowledge.

She trailed Morgana out of the castle. Gwen kept to the edges of houses and stayed in the darkness. She removed her heels, which were making clicks against the cobblestone. Morgana sought after alleys and the awkward space between hovels. She darted through the mess of buildings on the outskirts of the city, careful to retain silence.

They reached the west gate. Gwen silenced herself as she watched Morgana stride towards a pack of guards lingering near the exit. She listened closely, but only the guards were audible.

"Sorry, milady, but it's too late to leave. You should head back to bed." The biggest of the guards answered Morgana's quiet question.

The king's ward spoke again, softly.

"I can't let you leave. The king-" The guard gurgled and dropped his sentenced. Gwen drew her eyes to try and infer what happened, but the guards stepped aside and let Morgana pass.

Seeing Morgana disappear through the gate, Gwen shuffled towards the guards. She reached them as the gate began to close. The servant decided to pursue her lady, instead of examining the guards' opaque glare. Gwen crept under the heavy gate, and trotted after Morgana.

Gwen stayed in shadow while trailing Morgana. Every few minutes, the king's ward would turnabout and stare into the empty space where Gwen had been standing. Once, after an hour of passing trees in the forest, Morgana smiled. That sneer was wicked and bent.

Well into night, Gwen began to smell rotten food, putrid waste, and iron. The metallic smell tickled her nose as a fire lighted darkness. There were screams; bloodcurdling cries rebuked by laughter. As she followed Morgana ever closer the smell and the sounds, her heart raced. It took the speed of a galloping horse and she grew terrified. Her mind questioned Morgana thoroughly.

_Crack!_

A whip and a grunt. More screams. More terror. Morgana stepped onto the outskirts of the camp. The whip stopped, but someone's pain didn't. The air, weighed down by Morgana's presence, seemed to stop flowing.

Gwen sneaked closer until she caught sight of Gwaine. He was in horrible condition; beaten and battered, bruised and bloody. Morgana stared down at him, pursing her lips.

Morgana spoke bitterly, "What is this?" She tapped Gwaine's face with her toe.

The large man grasping the whip replied, "What you wanted."

"All you give me is this sour disgrace of a knight? And over there? Who is that, Argus?"

Argus barred his teeth in a nasty grin, "That? That is _Emrys_, lady Morgana."

Morgana twitched at the name, and waltzed to a disfigured boy. The boy's face was swollen, and his body ravaged with gashes and pain.

Morgana snickered, "_This _is the mighty Emrys? The all-powerful warlock? How can you be sure? He seems pathetic and weak."

"We can smell 'im."

"Bring him. We have some things to prepare for. Maybe you aren't so incompetent after all." Morgana rested a hand on Argus' chest, "And seeing as my servant followed me here, bring her too."

Gwen was grabbed by the waist and pushed to the dirt. She kicked and scratched, but the men who took her were much stronger. One withdrew his sword and thrust with all his force down on her head with the hilt, and it became dark.

_A.N: Oh noes! Not Gwennie... please review. If you don't, I'll... I'll think of something to threaten you with! I know! Don't eat any chocolate until you review, else you'll be cursed with a bad hair day._


	5. Chapter 5

_A.N: Queue the music! Another chapter! Sorry it's been so long, guys. I've been busy. I extend my humble apologies to you in hope you will continue on this adventure with the characters of Merlin. Enjoy._

~5~

Until the day he died, what Merlin could remember of that ordeal was pain. He could remember his shrieks piercing the cold night air while he was tortured for sport. He could remember the cracks of a whip slamming against a body while he tried to remain alive. He could remember the sweet taste of stale air when the pain ceased to encase his body and he was moved, head blindfolded and gagged, into a wooden prison on the back of a wagon. He could remember his icy shackles rub etches into his skin as the cart bumped against the trail. He could remember being the only soul in the cage awake. He could remember tears he had no memory of shedding dry during the journey.

As his body juddered from the soreness and rockiness of the ride, Merlin heard indiscreet segments of mumbles from the mercenaries.

"…this is supposed to be a warm place, at least…" Hopefulness was heard.

"…she's made lovely accommodations for us…" Sarcasm.

"…ain't but a beaute with a bit 'o magic…" Pride.

"Lady Morgana…" Morgana. The name drenched Merlin's clouded and beaten mind with poisonous thoughts. What was she looking for with him and Gwaine? The great evil sorceress kidnapping a conversational knight and a servant boy; what did she need from them? Perhaps, with a pang of dread Merlin realized, perhaps she knew he was Emrys. Catch him, kick him until he's down, and kick him while he's down. He was completely off guard with his foul mood that afternoon. He was a fool.

Gwaine moaned in a corner, somewhere off to Merlin's left. He tried to speak through his gag, but Merlin couldn't understand grumble. Still, Gwaine could not shut up, though without the ability to talk. This gave Merlin a pleasant touch of familiarity.

He listened to the tone of Gwaine's mumbles through the cloth holding on to the feeling; for he knew he would not see it again for some time to come. For some reason, the image of water came to mind while the feeling passed through him. Rushing, gurgling, beautiful water; it swiftly glided down in the essence of a river. It bent between trees that were thousands of years old and curved in shallow bends, then slammed against large rocks and flew over a cliff, shimmering down as a waterfall. That river was well-known to him, almost as if it was a friend, but he had no recollection of the blue ponds in the still and white ruffles from the current.

Merlin snapped out of his trance when the mobile prison halted and his head lightly tapped against the splintery bars. One oak shard pricked his forehead and hid in his tangled and bloody hair. He didn't feel it.

"Get a move on, then." A gravelly voice pulled the mumbling frame to his right out. Then there was another body. Merlin had no knowledge of who the third body was, but considering he was a prisoner of Morgana, it was safe to say he was on Merlin's side.

A grubby palm clenched Merlin's skin where his shirt sleeve had been. Merlin concluded he would have to buy a new shirt. He was dragged from the wooden cage, small slivers stabbing his flesh through the remains of his clothes. He felt weak, like he hadn't fought at all. He felt he had simply given up.

His handler dropped him carelessly in the dirt. Merlin smelled the aroma of iron in the ground. He must have been west of Camelot, near the Valley of the Kings where large iron deposits had been mined, but some still lingered in the dirt.

The blindfold and gag were removed harshly, but his hands were bound behind him. His right eye was welted to the point of no vision, and only a slit in his left allowed him sight. Through that crevice between ever swelling eyelids, he could see Gwaine and a woman's body next to him. Gwaine, freed of the restraining muzzle, spoke too fast for Merlin to comprehend. He caught the words "deprived" and "breast" in Gwaine's spout, and that was all he needed to.

The mercenary obviously heard enough as well. He threw his weight into his boot and heaved against Gwaine. The knight groaned a curt reply.

"Get up. Get moving." The sell-sword commanded. He kicked Merlin as well and yanked him to his soles.

The entire earth swayed beneath Merlin. His blood was audible selectively to him and it hissed in his ears. Saliva pooled under his tongue and rancid taste leaked from his stomach into his mouth. His lunch began to churn as he slugged through the dirt as ordered; Merlin wished he hadn't eaten earlier in the day.

Merlin's range of vision was tremendously impaired; he could barely look at the ground. It turned to mossy cobblestone as they entered a hallway. He presumed they were in some sort of castle. Typical.

He followed Gwaine's feet, only one of which still had a boot, and they led him down the prisons. He could barely stand any longer. With every further step, his legs nearly collapsed. He clenched his jaw to keep from moaning and falling.

Unfortunately, the guarding mercenaries were cruel; they pushed Merlin into a cell with the female. He tumbled to the ground, rolling until his momentum stopped. Blood came up and he involuntarily coughed, choking.

Gwaine offered his voice from an adjoining cell, "You alright then, Merlin?" His tone was too serious for Gwaine. Merlin thought he should lighten up.

"Merlin? Gwaine, that Merlin?" Gwen! Gwen was here? She was the third body. Merlin was surprised, then confused, and then ultimately depressed. She was with them, to be hurt. But not while Merlin was breathing.

Merlin held out a shaking hand. Gwen's soft skin clasped it. Without words, Merlin cast a weak protection spell on her that quickly left him winded.

"Gwaine! Gwaine, something's happening to Merlin!" Gwen franticly raced her breath.

"Fine." Merlin huffed out. His words could only soar on the end of his exhales.

"Merlin? I'm so sorry…"

He squeezed her hand to reassure her, though he himself wasn't. He was terrified. Gwen hadn't even recognized him. At least they weren't alone; that would be much worse.

… … …

Arthur swaggered into the throne room, rather confused. His shirt was unkempt and his stomach was gurgling for he had not eaten that morning. He had returned to a pile of half polished shoes to find Merlin, but he was still gone. As was Gwaine; no knight saw him return to the castle. And Gwen wasn't in the halls doing… whatever she does.

Uther lounged in his throne with Morgana at his side. She looked incorrigibly tired with dark, drooping circles underlining her glassy eyes. Gaius was speaking with the king, but was interrupted by the brazen prince.

"Father," he addressed his king, "Have you seen my manservant? Or Sir Gwaine? Or even Gwen- Guinevere for that matter." He caught himself on Gwen's name; calling her "Gwen" would seem too familiar for a servant.

The king turned his attention to his son, "No. Gaius is also searching for your manservant. He didn't return last night, and there is no sign of him today."

"Dammit, Merlin." Arthur muttered under his breath. He was most likely in a ditch, hung-over with Gwaine beside him. The prince could remember Gwaine recounting a story with a Kathleen or Caylee. Catherine, maybe? He was certain there were cabbages.

Gwen- her absence caused sense to stir. She was never late in all the years he'd known her. This baited a wolf within him, howling out something erroneous. His gut agreed.

"Father, I'd like the day off to search for my knight." His father would never allow him to look for a servant girl; it'd raise questions.

"So be it." Uther waved his hand; full trust in his son.

Arthur began his exploration, but he would not find Gwen. Not yet.

_A.N: OOooohhh! *climactic build* To be continued (I hope I don't have to keep saying that; I'll tell you when I stop)_


	6. Chapter 6

_A.N: I forgot to mention that I don't own Merlin or any of it's characters, they belong to their respective creators and owners. Though I do control the actions they take in this story. So you better start wishing on stars, because I'm not a nice person (not to them, anyway)._

~Chapter 6~

The water was strange, to say the least.

Gwaine first noticed the steady trickle of cold water after Merlin passed out. It was at the corner of his cell and drained as quickly as it came, but in its fall, the liquid provided a source of drink. Even if it wasn't the kind the knight was used to.

He had gone over and cupped some in his hands, and it drizzled out of the cracks between his fingers as he brought it to his lips. It sank down his throat with ease and the aftertaste was fresh. Moments later, he felt a sensation. More of a feeling; an unknown thought pestered him. He dismissed it, but he returned for seconds and so did the thought.

The feeling would be indescribable without the help of an emotion; friendliness. The water was _friendly_. Strangest water Gwaine ever tasted.

He shook it off assuming it was because he had been kicked in the head one too many times. Those boots took their toll.

"Do you know what's going on? Why we're here? What Morgana was doing?" Gwen peaked between the rusted bars for her inquiry. Merlin's head was resting in her lap as she softly stroked his hair.

Gwaine refrained from shaking his head, "No clue. There was something about an 'Emrys', and Merlin is a part of it. As for Morgana… I'm just as surprised as you. And confused. As for you, what are _you _doing here?"

Gwen blushed through the darkness, "I followed Morgana. She seemed somewhat suspicious, but now I think I should have told Arthur."

"He wouldn't have listened to a conspiracy theory involving her. He's too proud, I suppose."

"I know, but now I feel like there's something that I could have done to help. I feel so useless now."

"Hey," Gwaine inched across from her and extended an arm, "you're anything but useless. Merlin's going to need your help when he wakes up-"

A gruff voice cut in, "_If _he wakes up. I think the boys 'ad a bit too much fun with 'im."

The bold knight turned, "He will wake up. You don't know Merlin like I do."

The man hardily laughed, "The way Vincent tells it, you probably don't know 'im at all!"

"Then I know all I need to put my trust in him. Merlin's name won't be slung in the mud by your mouth."

"Trust?" The man burst, "How can you trust a man you don't know? You're a right idiot then. Did you happen to know he's been lying to ye this entire time?"

"Then any lie I needed to hear was necessary!" Gwaine seethed.

"Necessary? _Necessary? _How can lies do anything but hurt in the end? Take your predicament for instance; did his lies help you here? Hmm?"

Gwaine tried not to see the truth in the words.

At his silence, the man laughed more, "You people are so blind and trusting, I pity you. Makes me wonder; how are you still alive?"

"Because we act on bravery and valor, while you hide in the shadows."

"Not for long." His sneer held similarities to a grimace.

"What is your meaning?" Gwaine queried, "Tell me!"

"I have no obligation to you. Quiet down; I'm done talking."

Hostile with frustration, Gwaine shook and pulled the bars on the door of his cell. The rusty hinges spoke in mild creaks, but nothing more. The mercenary retained his apathy and smirked. Gwaine growled in spite and returned to his spot across from Gwen. He shredded his cuticles with his teeth, ripping off any dead skin. His nail bed began to bleed, soon enough.

"Stop that." Gwen bid with her gentle voice, "You'll tear out your nails if you keep at it."

Rolling his eyes, he slid back against the cobblestone to rest. Gwaine stopped biting his fingers, but began picking them. He mechanically pulled out white shreds and listened halfheartedly as Gwen started to hum. The tune lulled not only Gwaine, but the mercenary as well. Both resettled into restful positions. Gwen hummed in rhythm with her strokes of Merlin's clumped hair, removing knots and a piece of wood. She tossed it to the side, letting slip one tear for her disfigured friend.

… … …

Gwaine took note of the guard's changing routine. He reasoned they rotated every three hours, and was now the third rotation taking place. The knight was never strong with mathematics, but if they all had eight hours of sleep, and watched them for three hours, then that would make… twelve hours? Out of a twenty four hour day, they would have half the day to themselves. And twenty four divided by three is- nine? Nine guards rotate on a daily basis. When they were ambushed, and taken prisoner, Gwaine spotted at least twenty men. Now they stayed at their headquarters- there were bound to be more.

Gwaine could take on ten at a time. Merlin, if he was in good condition, could probably take on four. Gwen, if she had proper devices, maybe one or two. Not enough.

The leaking water meant an opening, but there was no way to tell how big. No sunlight shined in the prison, so no way to tell if it was night. They had no way to disassemble the rocks. Plus, they would have to carry Merlin to sneak out. That wouldn't work.

Perhaps he could aggravate a guard enough to come into his cell. He could feint injury, then knock him out and grab his keys. They still would have to carry Merlin, but Gwaine could steal the guard's clothes and act as one of the mercenaries. He could say Morgana wanted to see Gwen and Merlin, then make a run for it. But Gwen would have to carry Merlin, and if they were caught, she wouldn't be able to get away with him.

No plan seemed sufficient enough without Merlin's legs. He would have to wait until they were available.

Of course, waiting was out of the question for a knight like Gwaine. He hated the boredom and anxiety. Waiting held no profit for anyone, except their captors. The longer they waited, the more uninviting their fate became.

He glanced at Gwen, who rested for the moment. He thought of Camelot and of Arthur; what were they doing? Did they know of their absence? What was Morgana planning? Too many questions. Too many to figure things out on his own. He knew he wasn't an idiot, but he felt stupid not to be able to think his way out. Once they returned home, he was to be sure to take lessons in such things.

"Have you slept at all?" Gwen stretched from her sore back.

Gwaine shook his head, "No."

"You should. We can't go on if we don't." She returned to Merlin's side.

Gwaine slumped against the bars. He blandly scratched at his cheek full of dark whiskers. He chewed the inside of his lip and closed his heavy eyes.

"Oh no. Gwaine. Gwaine!" Gwen's rattled voice stirred him from his near sleep.

He faced her, not quite attentive, "What- what's wrong?"

"It's Merlin. He's running a fever."

Gwaine saw the terror in her expression and moved his eyes to Merlin. How could he not have noticed Merlin's pale complexion and sweat drenched body? The servant was shivering and panting through his mouth. The bruises on his face and frame had turned black and blood painted tattoos on him.

Gwaine quickly stood and gripped the bars to the door of the cell. He pleaded with the guard, "Please, we need blankets and water. Or a physician-"

The new guard was short tempered, "No. I ain't doin' nothin' for the likes of you. Get your own blankets and water."

"That's a bit of trouble. You see, we're stuck in cages! You need us alive, so go fetch us blankets; Merlin's sick."

The guard grumbled in distaste, "I'm though with you in half an hour. Beg to the next one."

"We need them or he dies; please!"

"Let me think about it: no." The guard ignored Gwaine completely from then on.

Gwen gave Gwaine glassy eyes, "I need something to bring down his fever. I think he has an infection."

Gwaine could give no response. He watched as she squeezed her eyes and pressed her lips into a fine line. She then reached for the lacing of her bodice.

"What are you doing?" Gwaine spoke softly.

"What does it look like?" She removed the stained bodice and pulled off her dress, "I'm giving Merlin something to keep warm in." Her privates were covered by discolored white undergarments. She laid her clothes on the ailing boy.

"Take mine as well." The noble night offered. He undressed, but before handing the garments to Gwen, he ripped off the sleeve of his shirt. He went to the corner of his cell and soaked it in the water. Once she had everything, Gwen bundled Merlin as best she could and dabbed his forehead with the cool cloth.

Gwaine reached through the bars and grasped Merlin's limp hand, "Don't do this. Merlin, don't die here." He whispered.

The two cared for the fading servant as best they could. They distracted themselves from looking at the guard, who stared at Gwen licking his lips and rubbing his thigh.

_A.N: Don't worry, Merlin will be back with us soon. Or will he? Hah, 'course he will. Or am I lying to you? (I would never do that to you guys (or would I?))_


	7. Chapter 7

_A.N: Muuurrrhhh. I wrote and rewrote this chapter at least ten freaking times. Guurrrhhhhhhh... you guys better enjoy this. And I'd like to say thanks to everyone who has been with me on this from the beginning and those who are just now joining us. I'm lucky to have such awesome followers (who don't want to kill me... yet.)_

~Chapter 7~

Gwaine continued to refresh the dirtying cloth. He would work till his thumbs rubbed to their bones to heal Merlin. He thought his friend wouldn't be strong enough to survive on his own, even though he knew Merlin was greatly underestimated.

Every few minutes, Merlin would cough phlegm creating a depressing outlook. He would need Gaius; else he would be soon to die.

"How is he?" Gwaine paced like a caged wild beast.

"No better than the few moments from your last inquiry." Gwen ritualistically handed over the cloth and Gwaine responded. He replenished it with the cool water running in his cell.

"We can't sit here and do nothing. I won't." Once the shred of rag was returned, he leaned against the chill flow of liquid to ease his own wounds. His own fever was beginning to heighten; he had been entirely focused on escape plans and Merlin, he forgot his own injuries.

"Then what do you suggest? Shall we break the bars with our hands? Even if we could, Gwaine, we couldn't defend ourselves and Merlin. We must wait for help…" she instantly lowered her voice, "or an opportunity."

"If we could break the bars with our hands, I'm sure we would be able to handle twenty mercenaries." Gwaine gave a sharp retort. Gwen let go a frustrated sigh shadowed by silence.

The water was rejuvenating and allowed Gwaine slight clarity. It seemed to rub infection through a gentile massage. He dozed in a light stupor, letting the water embrace him with its touch. Rapidly his inside condition changed into a more Gwaine-manner.

"People seem to take him for granted." Gwaine's mouth could never be closed.

"Merlin?" Gwen stroked his sweat sodden temple, "Gaius doesn't. Arthur may seem unaffectionate, but I can tell he cares. Even if he does take him for granted."

"He doesn't have a good long break that he deserves from him."

"I heard you two had a nice break involving a tavern girl named Katherine and some cabbages."

"I think her name was Christie, and the cabbages were a mistake. I didn't know she was into that sort of… thing." His bland smile was the best he could gather under the circumstances, "Did you hear of our 'adventure' with the pig and Christa?"

"No, you'll have to retell it." She copied his tone and lips.

"First, you have to understand, it wasn't Merlin's fault. He can't handle a drink as well as I, not to say he can't handle one at all. He is quite smart, even with a few swallows down his throat. I believe he has a natural-"

"Gwaine." Gwen genuinely grinned, and this gesture brought Gwaine some hope.

"So, anyway. I ran into Merlin at the armory when he was polishing some equipment and sharpening it up a bit. He looked so glum that I dragged him out to one of my favorite taverns. We had a couple plus ten drinks, and we started to get antsy. Me, being the gentlemen that I am-"

An iron chunk clanged against Gwaine's bars, causing him and Gwen to flinch. The sound wave stood the hairs down Gwaine's spine. They looked at the guard for answers.

He replied to their faces, "Quiet it in there! I can't hear meself think with your damn yappin'."

"How is it," Gwaine began his notorious tongue, "that a man, like yourself, can think?"

The guard stood shoulders back and menacingly, but was interrupted, thankfully for Gwaine. The door atop the stairs slammed open, and two couples of boots tromped down the uneven steps. The owners of the ruckus were Vincent, the man from the camp, and a lanky man. Vincent's looming grin still resided on his cheeks. The long man appeared to be confused or unwitting of the complete situation; when he saw the prisoners, he whispered to Vincent with eyebrows quirked and scrunched. Vincent chuckled as his reply, and patted the man on the shoulder twice, as if to reassure.

Vincent spoke to their current guard, "You remember Cecil. He's to relieve you of your shift."

The guard glowered at Cecil skeptically, "Is he really fit?"

"He needs to learn to take part, else he won't be fed." Vincent scratched his tongue, "Sit, Cecil. You'll be here for the next six hours."

Cecil retained a somewhat pubescent voice, cracking every so often, "Wait, I thought the shift was two hours."

"Not for you, Cecil. Good night. I'm going to sleep." Vincent took the reprieved guard upstairs and out.

Cecil remained in a stiff position uncomfortably for a minute. He gave a quick look at the ill-dressed prisoners and widened his eyes like they wouldn't see him. Gwaine stayed in his fountain corner, but stared with hatred filling his gaze. Ever the more uneasy, Cecil chewed his lip. Marks on his flesh where his teeth met showed Gwaine Cecil was generally nervous and gnawing his lower lip was habit.

The skinny man turned to sit, but then swiveled on his heels and faced Gwaine, who continued trying to scare him with his eyes. His eyes were incredibly convincing to Cecil.

"Do you- do you need something?" Cecil nimbly picked his lip with his fingernails after finishing with his canines.

"Blankets." Gwaine replied in the gruffest he could create.

Cecil nodded slowly, "I think we have some back here…" He left the main room and disappeared into a hallway across the stairwell. His sounds of rummaging echoed through the empty cells. Dropped items clamored when they hit the firm dirt. He hummed in pleasure, obviously finding what he wanted. Cecil walked back out, content with the menial of tasks completed. With him, he harbored six separate blankets and quilts.

Before handing over the warmth, Cecil dropped the cell keys on the small table, "I'm putting these here so you don't grab me and take them. Please, don't grab me." He spoke primarily to Sir Gwaine, who sustained his evil eye.

Cecil removed two quilts from the stack and slid his slender hand through the bars. Gwaine thrust himself from the wall. He approached Cecil with ease, detecting the man's lack of dominance. Once he neared Cecil, Gwaine reached out and snatched the couplet of quilts. Cecil progressed with a similar process with Gwen, minus the intimidated appeal.

Now with a source of heat, Gwaine and Gwen removed their clothes from atop Merlin and laid all but two blankets on him. They saved one for each of them. The clothes were returned to their respectful owners. Both Gwaine and Gwen wrapped in one blanked like it was their shell. Four were sheltering Merlin.

"Why didn't they give you blankets? He looks like he's dying." Cecil settled into a wooden seat at the table.

Gwaine returned to his corner, "You tell us."

"If I knew, I wouldn't ask. But I suppose they are cruel." Cecil seemed ashamed.

"'They'?" Gwaine relaxed, "You're not one of them?" He commended himself for catching Cecil's dialogue.

"I am, sort of." Cecil combed his crazy auburn curls with his gangly fingers, "My cousin said he could use my… skills. I can tell if someone has magic, like a hound can sense deer. My cousin is Vincent. And believe when I say this; I am truly sorry. I don't want anyone to be hurt, I really don't."

"If you can sense magic, you can see no one here has magic. Tell them to let us go."

"No, ah, he does," Cecil pointed at Merlin, "The sick one; more than I've ever seen, or even heard of. She has a weak spell on her, but you have…"

"You think I have magic too?" Gwaine squinted in cynicism and laughed as Cecil scrutinized him.

"No, you possess none at all, but… the water does. It's healing you quite nicely, might I add."

Gwaine removed himself from the wall. He was conditioned that all magic was evil and nasty. He didn't believe Cecil that Merlin was a sorcerer, but the water was convincing. The moment he initially touched it, it sent some energy through him. It was definitely magic.

"Do you have a death wish? Water that heals is hard to come by. It's saving the warlock as well." Cecil complained.

Gwaine commanded Gwen, "Take the rag off. Now."

He could see Gwen, however, had an open mind, "If it's helping we shouldn't stop it. Merlin needs all the help he can get, Gwaine. Even if it is magic."

"It could be poisoned."

"Are you dead yet? Is Merlin? We should accept this- this gift. We're lucky to have it." She patted the rag on Merlin's brow.

Gwaine groaned, knowing defeat. He examined the water, remembering the safety he experienced. Could it be the water was there to heal? He felt stronger than when he was thrown into the barred chamber. He stretched out his hand and the water surged on him, telling him it was harmless.

His judgment was created and fashioned by his knighthood, and it clouded his true aspect of it. Gwaine could remember he used to be indifferent on the subject of magic, until he witnessed only the terrible side. The condition to hate magic was slightly shattered in that moment, for he felt an attachment to the water. It wasn't trying to hurt him. He tiredly resumed his spot.

Gwaine watched Cecil watching Gwaine. Their eyes barely broke from the other, minus Cecil's glances of curiosity to Merlin. The more Gwaine looked at him, the more he concluded Cecil was far from a mercenary.

For starters, Cecil was scrawny. He was thin, yet appealing with his dark and think eyebrows. They didn't overpower his eyes, which were that of the shape of almonds, but royal purple in color. The color gave Cecil's gaze intensity, though it required power to be strong. One feature that ruined his attractiveness was his maimed left ear. Scars reached down his neck from the helix. Suture scars crossed under his chin. Interest bit Gwaine in the ass.

"What happened to your face?" Gwaine's candor was bound to hurt someday.

Cecil's shadowy eyebrows quirked, "I like to think I got it from my parents, although every day the odds increase that I was adopted or stolen as a baby."

"Funny." Gwaine did smile, "I meant your ear."

Cecil spoke nonchalantly, "I got into a fight with my brother a few years back. I lost. He won my earring."

"Looks more like your entire ear." Gwaine inappropriately laughed. He looked at Gwen for support, who scolded him with her glower. He quickly changed humor, keeping his lips straight, "Sorry."

"It's alright. I haven't seen him since then, and I take it as a blessing. He swore to 'finish what he started' the day he stole my jewelry. He was never a very good brother. A pity too. My mother told me his first words to me when I was born were 'I don't like him'. Come to think of it, my mother wasn't a very good mother, either."

"What of your father?"

"Don't know. He took off before my mother gave birth. She always seemed to hate him though, so he might have been a good man."

"Why do you follow your family?"

"You mean why I'm in this with Vincent? He said he would take my other earring. Or my necklace." He combed through his hair again.

"Sorry to hear that. Personally, I don't buy into family too much. I don't plan on settling down and creating one either."

"Heh. Neither do I, but most likely for different reasons." Cecil switched subjects, "You need something to eat?"

_A.N: I don't know about you, but I like Cecil. I think he's a cool dude. His personality will show more in the upcoming chapters, so stay tuned. I have some intense shit planned for him._


	8. Chapter 8

_A.N: Hey guys. I just have to say wow. 30 followers?! 17 reviews?! This is the best any of my stories have even done. So thanks. This chapter is my holiday present to all of you. Savor this chapter; it has a fairly nice finish for a chapter._

Chapter 8

Arthur was on his second day of the search. It was midday morning, and it was one taken fretfully for Arthur. Merlin was missing, along with Gwaine and Gwen. Gwen was never late; in all the years they knew each other Gwen was never late. She was the pinnacle of excellent service.

The worried prince asked every servant individually and personally about all missing persons. Twice. He questioned the knights, who were all convinced Gwaine and Merlin were still romping about. If not in Camelot, then in another town. They weren't helpful.

He went to Gwen's home and ruthlessly pounded on the door for minutes without answer. Bathed with concern, he sought an audience with his father.

"What's troubling you, Arthur?" Uther turned from his conversation with Morgana for Arthur's exaggerated entrance.

"My knight and my servant are missing. As well as Lady Morgana's servant, Guinevere. I would like to extend my search to outside the walls of Camelot, and recommend high alert for the guards." He spoke quickly and precisely.

"I have heard it is Sir Gwaine who has gone missing." King Uther kept a steady harsh gaze. Arthur tensed at his tone.

"Yes."

"His antics have been called to my attention. He has not been the most reliable of knights, Arthur. I am aware that he is one you wish to remain, but I'm afraid we cannot condone this behavior. Same with your servant. They make fools of us."

"You mean to remove them from service?" Arthur gaped at his father. Gwaine was unconventional, but honorable and gallant. Never mind he didn't have the blood of nobles; he was one of the best knights the prince was glad to fight with. Not to mention Gwaine was a friend, and as much as it pained him to admit, as was Merlin.

"Yes. Sir Gwaine is not of good blood, anyhow. I do not want you to waste our resources for either of them."

"And of Gwen?" Slip of the tongue, speaking of her casually. His father was too preoccupied with himself to notice.

"I am aware she is not one to disappear, but perhaps she had family matters to attend to. Wait, for now. You're excused."

Arthur left the throne room less satisfied then when he entered. He roamed the halls, trying to think. He decided to speak with Gaius once more. On his way, he encountered no one who knew of his friends' whereabouts. It was all too frustrating.

The prince came upon the chambers of the court physician and knocked twice. From inside, Gaius shouted for admission. Upon entry, Arthur stumbled upon the old man packing elixirs, medicine, and food among other materials.

"Are you leaving?" The prince declared with a confused scrunch of the nose. Gaius was not a man for trips; that's what Merlin was for.

The wrinkled physician continued to load a satchel while his response was blunt, "I'm going to look for Merlin. King Uther has no intent of it and I'm worried. It's unheard of for Merlin to leave with no notice."

"Gaius, I'm worried too. Not only Merlin, but Gwaine and Guinevere are missing. I have a sworn duty to Camelot, though. I must follow my father's orders. I was hoping Merlin at least mentioned something to you." Arthur could guess Gaius' answer, and he guessed correctly.

"Merlin told me nothing." Gaius finished his hasty stuffing and covered in his long coat. He removed an old walking stick from the corner of the room and slung on his bag. Arthur remained in the doorway and blocked Gaius' path. Politely, but with frustration, Gaius asked, "Excuse me, sire."

Arthur gave the man one look and concluded he wouldn't last long in his age. The prince could not let the man leave, "I can't, Gaius."

"I don't expect you to understand, Arthur, but Merlin is like my son. He is family and I ask you again to move." Gaius hinted he would not back down.

"And what do you think Merlin is to me? He's been one of the few nowadays that I can depend on. No matter how clumsy or forgetful or irresponsible he is. As well as Gwaine and Gwen."

"I should think they feel the same about you. What do you think they are thinking right now? That help will come. So I will go." Gaius was refused exit again.

Arthur shook his head, "No, Gaius. I will."

"Against-?"

"My father's orders, yes. I will take Sir Leon with me to scout the forests outside the kingdom at nights. Do not tell my father. And if he finds I am gone, would you be so kind to create some story for my absence?"

The stern look of the old man sold the idea it would be dangerous, "Of course, sire."

"Thank you, Gaius." Arthur left in one sweeping step to alert Sir Leon.

… … …

Merlin's drooped eyes lifted one at a time. He could see out of both, indicating it had been far more than several hours since he fell into his shallow slumber. His tongue swiped the thin coat of film covering his teeth. He needed water.

Dried saliva coated his lips, and he had to break the crust with light force. Merlin could draw scarce air through his swollen nostrils.

He moaned, "Gwen?"

"Merlin?" Not Gwen, but Gwaine's hope flitted to Merlin, "Don't worry, she's alright. Cecil's taken her out for a piss. Me? I just hold it till I have another guard in aim."

"Cecil?" Were they safe?

"He's our guard for the next four hours. He has a good heart, the poor bastard. Younger than you, I think, as well. Do you need anything?" Gwaine's rough hand shot through the bars and clasped Merlin's bare shoulder.

"Water…" Merlin croaked through his sticky lips.

"Just a moment." Gwaine returned to Merlin holding a goblet of water.

Merlin bent his bones and stretched his muscles to sit up. Many bones were broken, and all his muscles ached from his previous torture. Gwaine held the goblet erect before the warlock, who had difficulty reaching it.

"Here." Gwaine grabbed Merlin and pulled him against the bars, who proceeded to pour the liquid into his mouth. Merlin could support his back and finally drink.

He swallowed it all in one swig. Gwaine took the goblet back and refilled it. Merlin drank again. This routine continued until Merlin had to breathe. He gasped in air, completely winded.

"It's good luck you're alive. There were some hours where we didn't think you would make it."

Between disjointed wheezes, Merlin spoke, "Why does everybody… underestimate me?"

"You looked bad. You still do. It's not that we-" The slamming door cut Gwaine off. Gwen swiftly tapped down the steps. Her eyes were glossy and Cecil tromped after her, tending his cheek.

"I'm sorry." Cecil apologized while wiping away blood from his face. His cheek was split on his cheekbone, most likely from a knuckle. Cecil unlocked Gwen's cell and she entered. She didn't notice Merlin awake, much to his disappointment.

"What happened?" Gwaine set aside the goblet and walked to Cecil at the bars.

"I got in a fight. Nothing to think of, though."

Gwen interjected, "He saved me."

"From what?" Gwaine interviewed.

"A man. Our guard before."

"What did he do?"

Cecil threw his hands in the air, "Nothing. Nothing happened. You don't have to talk about it." He saw Merlin sitting, "You're awake!"

Gwen spun to see him, "Merlin!" She kneeled and squeezed him in a hug.

"Can't breathe." He replied from the removal of air in his lungs. Gwen relaxed her grip and kissed his cheek.

"I'm so glad you're alive." She pecked his forehead.

"Me too. How long have I-?"

"Hours. I'm not sure how many." Gwen looked at him in anticipation, like he had something to tell her.

"What?"

The look was thrown away as soon as it came on, suggesting a topic a bit touchy. Merlin made his mind scarce from thinking what it could be. Instead, he focused on be awake, and much more importantly, alive. Merlin would also try to formulate escape plans.

"What happens now?" Gwen sought Gwaine's eyes for answers.

"Now," Cecil intruded an answer as he clanked the key to lock it, "You wait. And hope that King Uther or Prince Arthur comes to your rescue. I will try to do all I can to keep you breathing until that time." He spit out a gob of bloodied saliva.

"We can't wait around; we have to do something." Merlin argued.

"Just what I was thinking." Gwaine agreed.

"Hold on a moment," Cecil stammered, "do you realize what you're doing, here? You're conspiring. If they catch me allowing you to conspire, they'll have my head on a stick. Then you'd have no one to sneak you food, would you? Lie low, at least for my sake. I'm your only friend here, so just trust me-"

"Trust you?" Questioned Gwaine, "You're on _their _side, how are we supposed to trust you? For all we know, you could be pretending to be with us."

Gwen interjected, "I don't think so, Gwaine. I can tell he's a good man." Gwen smiled at Cecil apologetically, which was returned by a weak simper.

Gwaine harrumphed, and fetched more water for Merlin. The goblet was rusty on the rim, so care had to be taken not to cut Merlin's lips.

As for Merlin, he found enough energy to sigh. When Cecil returned to his seat at a table, Merlin thought to himself of Camelot. He tried to recall what Gaius' soups tasted like, what his elixirs smelled of, and how his bed felt. It wasn't as nice or comfortable as Arthur's, which Merlin did on occasion nap in, but it was warm and soft. Well, no, it was fairly firm, but it was a soft spot in his mind that held a homey significance. He kept his mind on home, not bothering to discern where, or who, home truly was.

_A.N: So, happy holidays everyone! It's snowing outside right now, and I want to take advantage of this rare moment. I will see you soon when I continue the trifles of Merlin in the next chapter. Cheers!_


	9. Chapter 9

_A.N: You guys get another holiday present. Lucky you._

~Chapter 9~

Merlin stopped his longing thoughts when Cecil and Gwaine began chatting. He couldn't think over their incessant voices. Gwen was grinning at them, as if it was funny. True, to a point, it was a joyful interaction full of laughter and stories, but it was annoying after two hours. Merlin only collected his head until Cecil spoke to him.

"What can you do?" Intrigue drenched Cecil's tongue in a bath.

"What do you mean?" Merlin really had no idea.

"With your magic."

Used to denying his identity, Merlin refused the idea, "I don't have magic."

Gwaine shot Cecil a smug smirk, "Told you."

Cecil was clearly confused by Merlin's rejection. He scrutinized him, then Gwaine, then Gwen. He pulled his fingers through his crazy hair and sighed, "No, you definitely have magic. If you could heal, that would be beneficial for all your friends."

Cecil's truth held. Merlin hadn't thought of revealing his magic so everyone could survive longer. It was a difficult dilemma. Save his friends and be ostracized, or maybe die with them. The former was by far the best option, but how would his friends take it? If they were truly his friends, they would stay by his side, but still. He threw off the blankets.

Merlin groaned and swiped his face with both palms. He stared at his own wounds, mainly his torso and legs. He looked at Gwen's welt on her forehead, and at Gwaine's bloody shirt. Everyone glanced at him, clearly seeing his mind whirling. Merlin groaned again.

"I'm sorry, and I hope you'll understand." Merlin asked of them. They all remained silent, but Cecil seemed excited. Merlin stretched his hand over his legs. He summoned his power easily, yet his stomach tightened with fear. He chanted, "_M'esicore ilave x'es tris._" Immediately, his open wound became a large scab, and his muscles were cured of their burning.

Silence. There was no reply, save for their expressions. Cecil seemed eager, Gwen had a mixture of distrust and shock, and Merlin couldn't see Gwaine. He guessed his face was similar to Gwen's. He waited for them to yell, to speak, to do anything; but they remained silent, which was worse.

Cecil opened his mouth first, "When did you discover your magic?"

Inappropriate as it was, Merlin responded sheepishly, "I've had it all my life."

"Yes, it's fused with your spirit. You have the most energy I've seen, well, ever. I'm completely amazed; bewildered. What kind of spells do you specialize in?"

"All of them, I suppose." Merlin kept his gaze with Gwen, who continued her stare of distrust.

"Do you always have to use an incantation?" The questions rolled out as if it was rehearsed.

"No, but it makes it easier." He tried to have short answers.

Gwaine asked one question, "Have you ever used your magic to hurt the innocent?"

It was likely the most difficult question to be asked. Merlin had hurt people, innocent lives, but not on purpose. It was always a consequence, but Merlin knew the truth would be critical at that time.

So he sighed, and with ashamed remorse replied, "Indirectly and unintentionally." Merlin could feel Gwaine nod and decide what his reaction would be. The warlock controlled his raised breath.

Gwaine's hand gripped Merlin's shoulder. Gwaine told him, "I'm angry with you Merlin. For not telling me. You can trust me, with anything. And although I am angry, you're still my friend. The best friend a man could ask for because you've always been there; not only for me but for others. You had magic then, even if I didn't know, and if I thought your character and your morals were in the right place, revealing this to me won't change my opinion of you. You chose not to tell me, and I understand why. If I went off running my mouth when I was drunk, as you know I do, you'd be killed, and it would have been my fault. I wouldn't be able to live with that. I promise, as long as you remain my friend, I will protect you with my life."

"Thank you, Gwaine. You have no idea how much your acceptance means." Merlin tried to swivel his head to see the knight, but he couldn't turn far enough. He decided it was high time to stand.

Using magic helped a great deal with his legs. The scabs were tough and his muscles only ached slightly. With Gwaine's arm for assistance, Merlin straightened up and stood, dizzy for a moment before standing alone. Gwen held her distrusting glare.

"Gwen?" Merlin was anxious for her thoughts. He determined it would be unwise to approach her.

"I don't know what to think. What did you expect me to, after news like this?" Her voice was timid.

"I'm not sure either."

"I don't know whether I should be furious or…" She sighed with a half-smile, "relieved."

Merlin contorted his face with confusion, and spoke in unison with Gwaine, "What?"

"You told us, and here I thought there was something extremely wrong with you, the way you always sneak off, or are always there when Arthur is saved. Or in trouble. You seem wise at times, but then an idiot for the remainder. I thought you were a bit odd, but this explains it. And, Merlin, I fully doubt you would be able to hurt innocents with your magic any more you can do with your words." Gwen opened her arms for an embrace. Merlin grinned and accepted her squeeze graciously.

Merlin broke out of it, "I can heal your wounds. Not completely, but it would make them better."

Gwaine had his back to him, ready for scabs to be formed from his whip gashes. He complained facetiously, "I don't have all day, Merlin."

… … …

Arthur was nearly reduced to begging Sir Leon to embark to the forests for the search. The knight wanted to, but had no wish to go against King Uther. In the end, Sir Leon was faithful to Gwaine, Merlin, and Gwen.

"Thank you. For choosing to do this with me." Arthur expressed his gratitude. They were riding through dirt paths of a forest.

"I'm surprised you convinced the king we were hunting. There's not much in the North woods. Mostly rabbits and foxes. We'd best bring back a fox to prove we were hunting." Sir Leon was trotting behind the prince.

Arthur nodded in agreement. That would be their final priority. First, they had to find Merlin, Gwaine, and Gwen. They were primary.

Throughout the trots and gallops, barely a word was spoken. This gave Arthur time to think. Often, his mind and heart turned to Gwen with worry. She could be in a cave, lost; or kidnapped by thieves; or dying of hunger. When he thought of Gwaine and Merlin, he pictured them two ways; one, they were still drunk and trying to hunt. Or two, they were passed out from drinking and trying to hunt. He shook off his worries, but in vain.

In the day, there was no sign of any life other than that naturally dwells in the North forest. As dusk was beginning to rein the sky, Arthur shot a fox and several rabbits. Upon their return, they feigned victory, but bore defeat in their stomachs.

After the nightly meal, Arthur went to speak with Gaius. The old man was sure to be cross with him after finding nothing.

"Nothing?" Gaius paced.

Arthur shook his head, "But we haven't covered much of the North forest. Only a day's worth. Sir Leon and I will go again tomorrow. If we don't find them in the North, we'll search East, then South, and then West."

"Farms are usually to the South."

"I know, but they could still be there. Keep in mind; I have to do this all under my father's nose."

"And if you can't find them?"

"Then I'll go over all of Albion if I have to. I won't let them down."

"I doubt you could, sire."

Before leaving, Arthur nodded, "Thank you, Gaius."

_A.N: Arthur, you idiot, you're looking in the wrong places! They're out west! West! (That's what I would've been thinking the entire time he explained it to Gaius. Happy holidays.)_


	10. Chapter 10

_A.N: Hope you all had a fine holiday. I know I did. This chapter... well, just read it._

~Chapter 10~

Days became weeks. A routine was set up with Cecil; he'd give them clean water and whatever food he could scrounge. Gwaine was happy to receive such kindness, but moved his mind away from getting sentimental.

The usual Cecil could scavenge were bits of bitten bread, hard biscuits that nearly broke teeth, and occasionally cooked river herring. Gwaine accepted them all with gratefulness, but strayed from eating the herring; it was oily and too salty for his taste buds. He always gave a portion of his food to Gwen and Merlin, though they refused it every time. Eventually, from the little nutrition they acquired and their gurgling bellies, they didn't want the food to be wasted.

Gwaine tried to count the hours of the days and the days of the weeks that passed, but some were lost to sleep. The sleep was neither nightmarish nor pleasant, but empty and short-lived. It was the last activity he could partake in without driving himself mad. After a dreamless nap, half his thoughts were consumed by Morgana.

The silence from her troubled him deeply, for it was unknowing that stuck a twinge of fear within him. He waited as his skin seemed to grow tighter by the day. Muscle and fat were used by his body in effort to keep him breathing. Merlin and Gwen looked no better.

"Do you know how long we've been here?" Gwaine turned to Merlin. He may have the answer; after all, he was a warlock.

Merlin picked at the cuff that was slapped on him the second day he was conscious from illness. Gwaine recalled Vincent being slightly afraid before Merlin had the bronze chainless shackle fitted on him. Merlin said the cuff seemed to drain him of his power, and was most definitely created by Morgana to retain the magic of Emrys.

"An hour longer than the last time you asked." Merlin groaned tugging at the metal chaffing his wrist. Raw rings were drawn from his itching with it.

"Oh. I didn't remember. I am feeling quite lightheaded, now that you mention that. What do you think it's from?" Gwaine blandly gazed without latching on to any particular object.

"Starvation? Dehydration? Malnutrition? Being sober? Take your pick. There could be millions."

"Funny, that 'sober' joke."

"I don't hear any laughter."

"Lighten up, will you? You know I don't like being around depressed people." The knight complained to his companion. He shifted to better accommodate himself against the rough cobblestone.

"By all accounts, leave. I'm not stopping you." It was like Merlin was trying to pick a fight.

"You know you get real nasty when you're grumpy. Like how you got with me when I told you about what happened with Kate."

"Caley."

"Whatever her name was. You should consider yourself lucky; she wasn't all that pretty in the morning."

Gwen intervened before it became a quarrel, "Stop it, the both of you. Merlin, maybe you should improve your attitude a little. Gwaine you just need to be quiet for a while. Can we manage that?"

Gwaine and Merlin locked eyes, "Yes, _mum_."

Gwen was about to continue scolding when Cecil slid down the steps, nearly tripping and spilling the substance in a pot. He landed on his butt, dripping a few drops of liquid, and sighed exhaustively. He seemed to have had a long day.

"Guard change." He muttered to the resting guard on duty. The man stood while picking out the yellow crust of his eyes. When he passed Cecil, still on the ground, he kicked the pot and it flew to the ground. Cecil scrambled for it, but only half of its contents remained. He gave a groan accompanied with a huff.

Cecil removed a single wooden spoon from his jacket pocket and dropped it into the pot. He handed it to Merlin through the bars.

"I managed to get you soup today. Not much left now, I suppose, but it'll help you regain lost strength." Cecil offered. He plopped on the chair and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.

"Is something the matter?" Gwaine crawled to the front of his cell.

Cecil raised his eyebrows and stroked his hair, "Morgana sent word that the ingredients she requires for the ritual are almost all set. She's been having trouble getting out of the castle due to an increase of guards on the gates ordered secretly by Prince Arthur. But when she manages to leave, she'll come straight here."

"What ritual?" Merlin asked, first spoonful of soup still in his hand.

"Morgana," Cecil took an intense pause for effect with his words, "Is going to drain Merlin of his magic and take it for herself."

"I figured it would be something like that."

Gwaine interjected, "You said that Arthur was building up guard? That means he suspects something, and that means he's looking for us."

Gwen shook her head, "Yes, but Uther must not have commissioned his search. Arthur is doing this in secret, which would take him twice as long to find us."

Gwaine found himself, again, frustrating beyond reason. The only luck that turned up was in the form of soup and magic healing water that ran on the back wall of his cell. There was no plan. There was no escape. Every decision they could possibly make would only end in pain or death. He tapped his head against the bars.

Merlin brought the spoon up to his lips, but when the soup entered his mouth, he sprayed it in Cecil's direction.

"What's wrong with the soup?" Cecil slouched his shoulders and his monotone nature seemed expectant of bad news.

Merlin spat out the remnants of the liquid, "It's cabbage. I hate cabbages."

Gwaine stifled a laugh.

Cecil buried his face with one palm. He grumbled his own problems, but was muffled by his hand. He finally brought both hands together and interlocked with his own fingers. Terribly annoyed, he asked, "Why do you hate cabbages?"

"Now that's a story you ought to hear." Gwaine chuckled, "It all started back at a tavern, one of my personal favorites, just outside the walls of Camelot's citadel, on the south side. Merlin and I went out drinking to relax and have a good time. We drank our way through two bottles of whiskey before Merlin set his eyes on a pretty girl.

"She looks at Merlin, and he looks back at her. Neither of us can remember much of what happened during the night, but in the morning, I awoke in a bed full of carrots. I left as soon as I could, leaving and returning to Camelot, never to see whatever that girl's name was again. Merlin's story is much more interesting.

"When he awoke the next day, he was in a field of cabbages. Naked. We aren't sure why he was naked, or in a field, but he was there. He had massive headaches from our night before, and one mile seemed like twenty to him. He wandered for three full days, completely lost and wandering in circles. All he had to eat were the cabbages in that farm. He slept in the cabbage field when night came, and there wasn't a soul around that he could find. Eventually, he gathered his wits and found the road back to Camelot, but he was still naked. To avoid complete embarrassment, he covered his privates with a couple of cabbages.

"When he made his way back into Camelot, Arthur and I had been looking for him, and we found him heading back to Gaius'. Naked. When he returned to us, fully clothed, he smelled rank of cabbage. The smell of his body didn't disappear for days and the smell of his breath lingered for one week. Now he can't stand cabbages."

Gwen nodded, "That's why you smelled odd that one week. I thought that was strange because you normally smell good."

They all turned their heads.

"Uh," Merlin said, "Thanks."

Gwen shrugged, "It's hard not to notice a person's smell when you've worked with them for years."

"How do I smell?" Gwaine wondered.

"Do you really want to know?" Gwen took the soup and began sipping.

He paused, weighing his options, "No, actually, I don't."

"You two get into mischief like that often?" Cecil smiled, and the scar on his left warped with his cheek.

"If you liked that, you'll love the story of Merlin and the pig." Gwaine laughed.

Merlin collapsed to the ground, "Please don't tell him that one. No one must ever know. It must never be spoken of, conversed of, written of, or thought of. Ever."

"Alright. But that means I can tell him about the rabbits and the onions."

Merlin lifted his head to Cecil and spoke fast, "Gwaine got himself stuck in a barrel of onions for two days. We didn't know where he was. He was in an alley, where local children threw rabbit skins on him. I eventually found him, and through bad luck, I got myself stuck in the barrel as well. After two hours of dead rabbits, the barrel broke under our weight. We stunk. The end."

"It's not as good if you rush it. Stop being so grumpy."

"I can't. I feel like I'm being trapped inside my own body. It's this stupid cuff! I can't breathe with it on."

Gwaine sighed, "Sorry-"

The door at the top of the steps busted open and Vincent and a few other mercenaries tramped in. One carried chains and a lock. There was no happiness on their face other than twisted and demented joy.

"Get up, pretty boy." Vincent mockingly teased Gwaine, "You're going for a swim."

Cecil stepped in front of Vincent, "What's going on?"

"Morgana says we can kill the knight and the girl. We'll be killing the knight first, and we're going to have a little fun with the girl before we slit her throat."

The three prisoners stood, and Merlin stepped in front of Gwen protectively.

"Vincent, I don't think that's wise." Cecil puffed out his chest faintly.

"And what are you going to do about it, eh? Punch someone again? You barely even scratched Lew when all he did was try to look up the girlie's skirt. You don't seem to have any fun left after your brother did that to you."

Cecil staggered backwards and looked at Vincent and his men. He removed himself from Vincent's way and didn't look at Gwaine's betrayed face.

Gwaine had been somewhat sure he could count on Cecil. As the men unlocked Gwaine's cell, he tried to fight, but his strength was failing. Easily he was defeated and arms chained. His body refused to let him struggle as he was hauled away from Merlin and Gwaine, up the stairs past Cecil who was glassy eyed, and into the burning sunlight.

That altercation seemed glossed over to Gwaine, like it hadn't happened. Perhaps he was too dizzy and starving to properly recount things much more. He was tied to the flank of a horse, and watched Cecil exit the dungeon into the courtyard. Cecil mounted a horse and ran away. The mercenaries let him go, feeling no threat.

Gwaine was pulled by a chestnut mare with Vincent as its master. He hadn't remembered removing his shoes, but they were gone nonetheless. He trekked barefoot through shrubs and sticks, carelessly stumbling and stubbing his toes on rocks. It wasn't long before they reached the edge.

It was an edge of a ledge of the cliff they trudged on. A sharp fall was met by a lake at the bottom. A waterfall gushed beside them, and the water was like the one in his cell; he recognized the smell.

Vincent's final adjustment was to Gwaine's feet. They were chained to a heavy boulder like rock. The chains were warm from soaking up the sunlight, hardly fiery to the touch.

"Any last words?" Vincent brought Gwaine to the brink.

"Fu-" Gwaine began to say, but his voice was lost when Vincent shoved him into the air. Gwaine felt his gut drop and fly and twist with the stinging air falling up, and he plummeted, his last thought being the fate of his friends.

_A.N: And how'd you like that last bit, hmm? Sorry I had to go and ruin some happiness they just found with sadness. Oh well. See you in the next chapter, though I don't really see you, there will be a next chapter. Probably tomorrow. Don't blame me if it's not, I have a lot on my mind._


	11. Chapter 11

_A.N: I love you guys. All you followers and readers and reviewers. You totally rock!_

~Chapter 11~

Gwaine attempted to gulp any air he could in the short fall to the water. Beneath him, the ripples danced as they beckoned him closer. The boulder smashed into lake before Gwaine, but the liquid eagerly swallowed him fast. He struggled for the surface. Through the white water and bubbles he saw the moving earth above him distorted by the disturbance of the lake. It swirled, becoming distant as the weight drug him farther down. Soon, he couldn't hold his breath longer. Large bubbles escaped his mouth and the water flooded his tongue and throat. Any light began to fade with his consciousness.

A celestial vision appeared to him. The beautiful blue haired girl from before touched his face just as his eyes were failing. She swam under him and released the tension of the chains and rock, setting him free. He had not strength left in his bones to push through the glass of the surface. The girl held onto his waist and carried him into the lighted parts once again. He reached ahead of himself. A firm hand clasped his arm and snatched him harshly away from the deep, and the girl.

Cecil sucked in breath above the water in sync with Gwaine. He pulled Gwaine until he could steadily walk on the mud of the lake. Then, he carried him. Once to shore, he collapsed in a heap and Gwaine rolled to the side.

Gwaine coughed the remnants of lake water from his lungs. They both panted heavily without speaking until Cecil smiled.

"What?" Gwaine wheezed. The lake drained him of the power to move except to writhe.

"It's just," Cecil stammered, "I saved you… didn't I?"

"Thanks… for that."

The moment was over before it began. Vincent shouted off the bluff that he was going to kill the two of them. Cecil moved to action straightaway.

Gwaine dug his fingers in the dirt to help him sit up. Cecil came to his aid and yanked him under his shoulders to stand. Gwaine felt his equilibrium upset as the world spun. He staggered, but was able to walk with Cecil supporting his back.

Still winded from the excursion in the lake, Cecil spoke in parts, "We need to run. Thirty men. No time for Gwen and Merlin. Later."

Gwaine responded in the same manner, "Not leaving. Save them. Gwen'll die. Merlin'll die."

"I stole ingredients," Cecil pushed Gwaine along to the horse, "be a while to collect. Gwen's safe. Merlin's spell."

Gwaine shook his head in refusal, "Not leaving without them."

"I hoped I didn't have to do this." At the horse, Cecil unsheathed a long sword. Gwaine, for a brief moment of panic, feared his death. But what he saw before nothing was the silver hilt of Cecil's blade.

… … …

"The south was a waste of our time." Arthur declared to Sir Leon. The knight nodded in agreement as they rode to the west of Camelot. Through the fading day, the trees seemed taller and the caves more frightening. None of this fazed Arthur, as he was too preoccupied with his own discontent that he was only looking for people. The rain the past week swept away any chance for finding foot prints, and Uther was growing short with him. His father was insisting the "hunting trips" stop before he kills the entire forest.

"Sir," Leon began, "do you think that it's possible that we won't find them alive? It's been over a month."

This was a thought that irked Arthur. In the first week, Uther proclaimed they had all run off. Morgana favored this idea as well. The prince knew this was unlike any of them without telling anyone. Gwen told him that she'd see him, and he knew she doesn't say things on a whim. Gwen was a thinker, and a brilliant mind, at that. And if they were into trouble, it was chance that Merlin and Gwaine got them to it.

"No. All three are strong, and I'd bet my life that they will be alive." Arthur's words seemed absolute, but he was unsure of them. It was more of a wish or a dream than reality.

"What do you think's happened to them?" Sir Leon's genuine worry didn't help to settle Arthur.

"I truly don't know." He looked back at Sir Leon to give him a sincere pout. Leon's gaze snapped from the prince and affixed ahead of them. Through the spaced trees, they saw a figure on a horse. It galloped towards them with speed in an almost perfect line. Both men raised their bows and knocked and arrow.

"Don't shoot!" A boy shouted from the horse, "Don't shoot!" As the horse cantered closer, not one, but two individuals were on the horse. The boy who cried out was controlling the reins and the other was slumped in front. The darkness falling cast shadows on the boy's face, but he had notably curly hair and stunning purple eyes. The slumped man was unidentifiable, not to mention gaunt.

"What is your business in these woods?" Arthur hadn't lowered his bow. He spoke fiercely and callously.

"Are you Prince Arthur?" The boy distrustfully rested his palm on his sword. He gripped the slump man's shoulder defensively.

"Yes, now what is your business in these woods?" Arthur suspiciously aimed.

The boy's defensive body language ceased at Arthur's words and he let out a large sigh, "Finally, something's gone right." He murmured.

"Does that man need assistance?" Arthur lowered his bow.

"Yes! This is Sir Gwaine, he's one of your knights!"

Arthur moved quickly off his horse and threw down his bow. They boy helped give Gwaine to him, and Gwaine was light. Even in darkness, Gwaine's bearded face was skeletal. His shape brought tears to Arthur's eyes, but he didn't let them drop. Arthur held Gwaine in his lap.

"Gwaine!" Arthur shook his knight to wake him, "Gwaine!"

"We don't have time for this now," The boy said, "Ten men, if not more, are in pursuit of me. All are heavily armed with expertise."

"What's happened to him? Where are Gwen and Merlin?"

The boy shook his head, "Still in captivity. I'm sorry, but we have to go. Now. I'll lead them off in the other direction. You get Gwaine back to safety."

"I'm not going without the other two. You have to lead me to where they're being held."

"I can't; not now. I'll come to Camelot when I can. Tell Gwaine sorry. Hiyah!" The boy kicked the horse and it struck of like a flame leaving Gwaine with Arthur.

Arthur stared another moment with Sir Leon at Gwaine, shaken by his appearance. Arthur brought Gwaine to his horse effortlessly being as the knight lost weight. He mounted with Gwaine, but halted before departing. Gwen and Merlin were out there. Maybe in worse condition in captivity. They were prisoners. Gwaine wouldn't have left them if he had the choice. That boy, at least he was on their side.

_A.N: Random thought here; do you guys like Grimm fairy tales?_


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